The Words We Cannot Say
by Morganeth Taren'drel
Summary: On a mission gone wrong-perhaps because Mal truly can't go anywhere without starting a fight-Inara and Mal are trapped on the damaged shuttle, and Mal's bleeding fast.


**AN**: This story I believe started from a prompt from my friend The Cleric 007. Took me forever to finish, and if asked honestly, I don't think I'm all that happy with the results but as always I'd like you to be the judge. I hope you find some part of it that you enjoy.

**Beta**: Many thanks to **The Cleric 007**

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters from Firefly

**The Words We Cannot Say**

Wang bao DAHN-" Mal stumbled forward down the narrow corridor, shouts of anger and protest following all the way. Inara helped to support his weight, his right arm pulled across her small shoulders, but it was a strain for the both of them. Mal's left arm stretched across his body, hand pressed tightly to his side; still he could feel the blood leak through his fingers, dripping to the grated floor below. The door to the shuttle was in sight and Mal pulled his arm away from Inara.

"Go, get the shuttle ready!" he ordered letting himself fall heavily against the wall

"Mal!" Inara cried hands reaching out for him.

"I'm right behind you," he assured her as his right hand reached for his sidearm. Boots pounding on the metal floor echoed through the hall and Mal knew it was going to be a close call.

At the first sign of movement Mal fired a warning shot, while still backing towards the shuttle.  He could already hear the engines hum to life. Mal walked backwards as quickly as he could, knowing from experience that the men following would not be so polite. As the men flooded around the corner guns drawn, Mal fired rapidly, his only advantage lying in their close quarters; he could hit more than one with each shot he took.

"Mal get in here!!" Inara shouted from the cockpit. Adrenalin flooded his system as Mal made a dive for the door and felt a searing heat cut across the back of his left leg.

The door slammed closed behind him, as Inara took the shuttle into the air. The ship shuddered violently, almost throwing Mal to the side. "They're gorram firing on us!" he ground out forcing himself towards the cockpit. "Move over," Mal ordered feeling another rush of adrenalin surge through him.

Inara got up with a glare but stepped back to give Mal access to the controls. Taking evasive action, Mal swore bitterly when the base landed another shot on the shuttle. "Don't need another shuttle breaking," he winced pushing the ship for more speed as they blasted through the atmosphere.

"At least you won't be responsible for both," Inara spoke sarcastically.

"Thanks," he returned dryly, breathing a sigh of relief as the shuttle broke through the atmosphere.

The pain in Mal's side was beginning to fade, and he knew that wasn't a good sign shock was setting in. Punching in the coordinates to where the Serenity was waiting, Mal reached for the communicator. "Serenity this is shuttle one…"

Static was the only answer.

"I repeat, Serenity this is shuttle one.  Wash, come in."

Inara reached across him, her slender fingers striking the keys in an elegant way Mal found very distracting.  Shaking his head the Captain looked back up at the screen.

"Communications are out…" Inara said with a frustrated sigh, turning the captain's chair to face her. "Can't you go anywhere without making enemies?" she demanded with a sigh.

"A few places," he defended.

"I won't even ask what you were thinking," Inara began the expression on her face unreadable, "since I highly doubt thought actually factored in."

Mal pushed himself up from the chair, his legs trembling under him. "Hardly seems fair."

Inara took Mal's right arm again moving to help him towards the bed. "Guay…" he bit out with a gasp.

"What is it with you and getting shot or stabbed?" she asked incredulously as Mal eased himself down onto the bed.

"Why focus on the negative?" he returned holding his throbbing side, "We both got what we came for."

Inara's eyes narrowed but she chose not to comment on that, instead focusing her attention on his side.

"Lay down I need to take a look at this," she instructed stepping over to a chest at the end of the bed.

Mal complied, hissing in pain when he lay back, stretching the wound.  He could feel fresh blood begin to seep through his fingers again. Inara knelt beside him placing the med kit next to his thigh.  Reluctantly the Captain pulled his left hand away from the wound. He watched intently, despite the pain, as Inara pulled his ruined shirt away from the gunshot.

"You've lost a lot of blood," she spoke in a worried tone, pulling a gauze pad out of the kit.

"Hadn't noticed," Mal told her sarcastically trying to ease the tension in the shuttle. "I just figured my head was spinning from lying on your bed."

Inara's reaction wasn't entirely what Mal had expected: her brown eyes looked up at him through long thick lashes as a sensual smile curved her lips. "Enjoy it…" she said voice as smooth as silk, before her attention returned to his wound as she pushed the gauze tightly against it. "This is as close as you're going to get."

Mal repressed a sigh, blue eyes searching the metal ceiling above his head.  A chill was beginning to set into his limbs now that he'd stopped moving and the adrenalin had drain from his system.

Pain exploded in Mal's side causing his body to jump, "Ching-wah TASO duh liou mahng!" he gasped eyes shutting tightly.

"Quit being a baby," Inara told him dismissively.

"Just what in hell are you doing?" he demanded, his eyes opening as he raised his head to look down at his side. Inara's small hands were coated in his blood as she continued to press against the wound.

The Companion didn't look up. "Trying to stop the bleeding," she said without looking up.  The worry in her voice was clear.

"What's in that med kit?" he asked, attempting without success to answer his own question.

"Nothing to extract a bullet," she replied distractedly.  He could hear panic entering her voice.

"I ain't worried about the bullet," he said, feeling tired and lightheaded.  Mal reached for the kit, quickly pulling it across his body so he could better see what was inside. "Gorram kit doesn't have anything," he muttered bitterly.

"Probably because I choose to avoid gun fights," Inara replied, her words clipped.

Mal's eyes fell closed again, his mind working as best it could to find a solution. "Cauterize it," was his blunt decision.

"Shah muh?" she asked in surprise, her hands still maintaining a desperate pressure against his side.

"No other choice, least ways not that I can think of."  Mal's eyes opened, zeroing in on Inara. "We're too far out from Serenity," he coughed painfully, "I ain't got enough blood to see me through."

"What about infection?" Inara pressed.

"We'll have a right better chance…of dealing with that…" Mal panted, "than this." He pulled the required items from the med kit holding them out to Inara with a visibly shaking hand.

A moment passed between them, Inara staring directly into his eyes before she took the items he held. "Give me your hand," she instructed, taking Mal's right hand and pressing it to the sodden gauze. "Keep pressure on it." That didn't need to be said, but the Captain knew the words slipped from Inara's mouth without thought.

"Fahng-sheen," Mal said, attempting at a confident tone.

Inara nodded mutely but didn't looked the least bit convinced as she gracefully got to her feet and took hold of her dress so she could quickly cross the shuttle. Mal winced when he saw Inara's bloodied hands take hold of the fine fabric of her dress. He could already see his portion of the job going to her in the form of damages.

Within moments Inara was back kneeling at his side. Mal couldn't quite make out what she had brought back before it vanished from sight to rest on the floor next to her, but Mal thought he saw a small blowtorch. Inara worked quickly to sterilize the gunshot, an act which left Mal staring at black spots as he pulled in shallow breaths.

He heard the hiss of the torch, a few moments later, and tired to prepare himself for the coming pain. Mal knew there was only so much his body could take before he passed out, and he found himself wanting that. The Captain didn't fear the pain, he was far too accustom to it; but he'd long ago learned the anticipation of pain was worse.

"Mal?" Inara asked softly her hand resting on his shoulder. Opening his eyes, Mal forced a smile he hoped didn't look too pained "Are you ready?"

He nodded mutely pulling his right hand away from his side, exposing the wound. Blue eyes stayed focused on Inara's curly black hair, unable to close but not actually wanting to look. Mal felt the heat of the metal approach his flesh an instant before agony tore though his body.

Blackness surrounded him almost immediately and Mal thought he heard himself scream.

WMWMW

Mal woke to the familiar sound of the shuttle's engine humming all around him and for a brief minute didn't feel any pain.  His body quickly reminded him however. Despite his best efforts, a groan escaped him as he forced his eyes to open.

It took a while for his vision to clear; when it did Mal looked down at himself. He was still lying on Inara's bed, but now a thick blanket was covering him.  Lifting his left arm to his head, Mal moved to massage his still sleep-filled eyes, but stopped when he realised his shirt was gone. It didn't really surprise him, though Mal's eyebrow raised as he carefully shifted under the blankets. Inara hadn't stopped at his shirt; she hadn't left him with a scrap of clothes.

"Inara?" Mal thought he'd spoken her name normally but it came out more like a dry croak, which left him clearing his throat.

"You're awake," Inara breathed and he could hear what he thought was relief in her voice, though it didn't sound quite right.

"How long was I out?" he asked, voice still dry but stronger.

Inara took a seat on the edge of the bed next to Mal's hip. "About an hour."

"Anything change?" Mal could tell almost instinctively that the shuttle was fine. Engines didn't speak to him like Kaylee but you could only be onboard for so long before you started hearing the subtle changes.

"You're running a fever."  She reached over to the table next to the bed bringing a glass to Mal's lips. "How are you feeling?"

Mal shifted on the bed when Inara took the water away, trying to push himself up into a sitting position until her hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Been worse," he told her honestly, a smile touching at his lips.

"I won't argue with that," she replied, gently resting her right hand on his forehead. It surprised Mal how comforting it felt and he had to consciously keep himself from leaning into her cool touch.

When she withdrew her hand, Mal glanced briefly around the shuttle, before his eyes came back to rest on Inara.  Something was different but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Inara's rich brown eyes were watching him the entire time, her right hand reaching out to gently rest on the center of his chest. And that's when he saw it. Her hands were as pale and clean as ever, but that didn't surprise him.  Nor did the fact that Inara had changed out of her bloodied clothes. 

"You're in your finest," he commented with a raised eyebrow, reaching rather feebly for the glass of water.

Inara returned the water to Mal's lips, pulling it away frequently so he couldn't gulp the water down. Those first few sips had awoken him to just how thirsty he was. "You didn't really expect me to stay in those blood soaked clothes."

Blue eyes continued to look the Companion over, "We expecting company?" he asked jokingly, exhaustion closing in around him.

"Mal, you should try and rest," Inara said cool hand returning to his heated brow.

It was so very tempting to let himself fall back into the blackness away from the pain, but warning bells were going off in Mal's head. Inara looking every inch the respectable Companion that she was meant she was expecting someone important, but who?

"What's going on?" he asked suspiciously.

Inara glanced away only confirming Mal's suspicions that whatever _it_ was he wasn't going to like it.  The silence between them was broken by a brief crackling.

"Shuttle one, you'll be docking in five minutes."

For the briefest second Mal could almost let himself believe that was Wash's voice. Reality however came crashing in far too quickly, as Inara got up from the bed and made her way to the controls.

"Many thanks," her voice was like satin, without a hint of distaste.

"You called in the gorram Alliance?!"

"Mal I didn't…"

Mal forced himself into a sitting position, his anger for the moment out weighing his pain, "Communications were out!" he growled. "If they're back why didn't you call Serenity?!"

"Mal, relax." His glare only darkened at that. "Communications are still down, but it turned out just long distance."  The Companion came to stand next to the bed, "They made contact," she explained as she sat down, her hands hesitating to reach out and touch him.

"What did you tell them?" he asked trying to keep his breathing deep and even when all he really wanted to do was pant against the pain.

"That our communication were been damaged." Inara drew a soft breath. "And that you needed medical attention."

Black spots were beginning to form before Mal's eyes but he fought to keep himself ridged. "Tel'em I'm fine!" he ordered, thought the tone was all wrong as he struggled to breathe.

"Mal, you're burning up," Inara countered, her small hand reaching out to touch his face.  It felt like a splash of cold water against his skin. Her other hand came to rest on his shoulder and, with humiliating ease; Inara was able to lay him back on the bed.

The shuttle shook as it came to rest against the Alliance ship.  It wasn't long before a deep echoing knock struck against the outside of the shuttle door. Inara cast one worried glance Mal's way before moving to open it.

Mal attempted to pull his anger in, letting his eyes fall almost completely closed so he could just make out shapes as the shuttle door slide open. Inara greeted the men formally; whether they cared or not, Mal couldn't tell.

"My thanks for your assistance, Captain," Inara said, voice smooth with a hint of something _more_. Mal had caught that tone several times before, either hidden beneath the voice she used when speaking to him or outright when addressing someone of power.

"Just what happened here?" the Alliance Captain asked, stepping deeper into the room.  Although Mal couldn't make out the man's expression, he had no doubt it was one of superiority. "Dr Lain," Mal caught the gesture of the man's hand towards him.

"There was an unfortunate misunderstanding, Captain," Inara began. "This poor _fool_ mistook my relationship with my customer and thought I was being attacked."

"A backwater boy?" the Captain said with a chuckle.

Mal fought against flinching when the doctor's hands took hold of the blanket covering him, his attention split between watching what the man was doing and listening to Inara's '_story_,' which was clearly her own form of payback.

"I haven't met a man more naïve," the Companion explained.

The blankets were peeled back past Mal's hip, exposing his cauterized side.  The doctor's gloved hands made short work of the bandages. "Looks like a gunshot wound," Lain said, a note of suspicion his voice.

"Inara Serra," The Captain said and Mal opened his eyes enough to see the Companion had passed her official paper to the Alliance Captain. "This '_misunderstanding_' led to a gun fight?" it was stupid question and Mal could hear the suspicion in it.

Mal knew it wasn't going to be an easy thing to explain, but Inara was smart and he knew it was hard to catch her off guard. He wanted to get to his feet - the need to defend was strong – but as the doctor's hands began probing the wound pain ignited throughout Mal's entire body.  He felt himself slip back into the blackness, despite his best efforts to fight against it.

WMWMW

"Mal?"

He heard his name being called but it seemed so far away. It took a great deal of effort but Mal pulled himself out of the void of blackness and was surprised when he wasn't immediately met with pain. His fuzzy memories couldn't tell him why that was.

Blinking slowly, Mal opened his eyes and saw Inara sitting next to him, brown hair pulled over her right shoulder.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

Mal drew in a breath, looking around to see the familiar surroundings of Inara's shuttle, and slowly the memories returned to him. Without a second thought Mal shot up in bed, causing Inara to yelp in surprise. "Mal, relax, you're going to tear your stitches!" Inara's hands came to rest on Mal's shoulder.

Mal looked down to see he was still wearing nothing, but his side had been taken care of.  All the blood was washed away and there was just about no pain. "How long was I out?" he asked unable to keep the growl out of his voice.

"About twenty-four hours," Inara told him, trying with little success to get Mal to lie back down. "The shuttles been repaired.  I made contact with Serenity and they will be meeting us soon."

Mal shook his head. "What the hell made you call the Alliance?!"

"Mal, there's nothing saying you would have held out that long," she replied.  Mal opened his mouth, but Inara continued without giving him a chance to speak.  "I don't care if you think you would have made it!  I couldn't take the risk."

Locking eyes with Inara, Mal saw that flicker there, just a hint of something beyond the standoff that stood between them. It was deeper than anything they said or did, more serious than the jokes and snipes they sent each others way.

"I could'a held on," he told her, voice low as he continued to watch her liquid eyes.

Inara leaned in closer looking up at him through those thick lashes. "You're far too stubborn for your own good."

"Pot calling the kettle…" Mal returned leaning a little closer catching the scent of her hair and it made him want to reach out for those silken strands. 

The crackle of static broke the moment, "Mal, Inara, do you read me?" Wash's voice broke over the com system.

They pulled back almost simultaneously and Mal could have sworn he heard Inara curse under her breath as she got to her feet responding to Serenity. Mal lowered himself back on Inara's bed, choosing this pain free moment to enjoy the comforts; it wasn't likely he'd be here again.

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel


End file.
